Love and War
by EwanMcGregorIsMyHomeboy12
Summary: Series of one-shots/drabbles detailing several different pairings across different time frames in the Star Wars universe. Everything from Anakin/Padme to Finn/Rey to Han/Leia to all sorts. Requests for pairings are open!
1. Anidala: Public: Rated T

Her eyes watched his hands, gesturing as he spoke to the room. She was listening, truly she was; the war effort was so important to her. But it was the first time she had been able to spend the night with him in months; the first night they had been able to make love since the start of his last mission.

He was standing next to Obi-Wan, speaking to the board, but every so often, she could feel his gaze slip to hers, his half grin coming across special for her. Her thoughts trailed to his hands, tracing across her skin as his metal arm supported his body. His lips covering every uncovered inch of skin they could reach, his occasional pauses and smiles to her eyes.

"I don't think that we need more troops, I think we simply need to move another battalion in from the mid-rim sieges. There are several breaks in the fighting where we can afford to move troops." Obi-Wan started to speak, freeing Anakin to spare her a longer look, though not one that she could be seen reacting to.

She thought of every new scar she had seen on his body, each star shaped cut or thin line drawn over his skin. His soft groans that mixed with hers as she had undressed him in the darkness of her apartment. His countless "I love you"s as the night went on. Those were the nights she lived for, spent in his company.

"This would save both money and time, we have already taken sizeable loans from the banking clans." Bail Organa responded with a nod to Obi-Wan. Anakin hid his smile behind his mouth, it was a joke of his to say that Bail Organa had a colleague crush on Obi-Wan; he seemed to agree with everything the general said, and the pair were almost an unarguable pair on both the Senate floor and in Council Chambers.

"Do we have the amount of transportation to move those troops?" She asked, and Obi-Wan nodded in answer. Obi-Wan paid her a small smile, admiring her thoughtfulness, but her thoughts had turned back to Anakin, now eyeing her over his closed fingers. She had the feeling he was thinking exactly as she was, reviewing the night they had spent together in detail, having to spend so much time here when they could be together again.

Her mind slipped to the finish of their physical relations, a small shot of arousal pulsing through her at the thought of how he felt inside of her. At the sounds he made as they came together again and again and again; at the feel of the lulling contentment as they together afterward, his arms around her, her face pressed to his chest as her hair splayed out over his skin. She was ready for this meeting to be over. One look at his face, his eyes lingering over her body and face, told her that he felt the same.

"I will go oversee the movements." Obi-Wan said in reply, many of the Senator's leaving with the exception of her and Bail.

"Thank you, Master Kenobi." Bail said, "I will go and see that the vote is approved as we need it. I'm sure the Chancellor will see things our way."

Both men left, Obi-Wan pressing a friendly hand to her shoulder as he passed her. It was good to see him, she felt a twinge of guilt she had not taken the time to speak to one of her oldest friends. But that thought went away when, as the rest of the party dissipated, her husband's arms came around her, his face buried in her neck as he pressed soft kisses there.

"Force, I've missed you."

"We should be careful, Anakin. Someone could walk in." He pulled back, leaving his arms around her, looking slightly hurt. She slid a hand to his chest, brushing it against his strong jaw, where he hadn't had time to shave the scruff growing there after she had distracted him that morning. "We could always go elsewhere."

He grinned down at her, his hands sliding slightly over her hips, pulling her slightly forward into his own. She took his hand, guiding him out of the door, double checking the time. It was hours before she was due at a state dinner, she could take a few hours off, especially with Bail taking care of the meeting's fallout.

He was only here for a week. She planned to make the most of it


	2. Healing: FinnRey: Rated K

**(A/N) Request fic from :) Hope you enjoy, I love FinnRey. Please R and R, requests are open!**

"I'm serious, Finn, I'm fine." But her face told a different story. Her skin was drawn to her features, paler than usual. She was tired, far more tired than usual, with her body being accustomed to hard training sessions as a Jedi.

"You have a fever," He answered, "You've never been somewhere this cold, or with this many people." He stood by the sink, ringing out a rag in his hands. Pulled around his shoulders was his own jacket, similar to the one Poe had given him, which lay folded by his bunk where it had been slashed by Kylo Ren. The scar along his back tingled when he thought of it, but he let the shudder pass through him, and folded the damp cloth. Rey was sick, and was being far too resistive.

"And you're being ridiculous; I have to go train." She tried to stand, her body not quite cooperating, and she fell back into the couch. He gave her a knowing look, eyebrows perked; and she groaned in protest before pushing back on the couch, falling into the cushions. A few moments later, even though her eyes were closed, she could feel the cold compress being placed gently on her head.

She had to admit, it felt amazing; along with Finn's gentle fingers as he moved the hair off of her forehead to take her temperature with the official monitor he had taken from the deck. She didn't like when other people touched her, or were too close to her, something that Luke had learned to respect during her training. But if she had to be honest, she didn't mind his touch. He hands were strong when he would put his hand on her shoulder as he ran past her in the hallway; his hands were soft when he would hand her different things from around the base, or pull her out of the way of pilots who ran by them as they walked through the halls. And now, she could feel the soft callouses from years of blaster shooting that covered the tips of his fingers as he moved the rag on her head and pulled a blanket up to cover her, his fingers running on her bare shoulders.

"You don't have to do anything, I already got the all clear from Skywalker." He said, smiling down at her as she blinked up at him. He moved away then, rifling through the icebox he kept in his room. She could hear the clinking of ice, and even though she was sniffling through thick congestion, she could smell the sharp tang of Muja fruit juice, her favorite food she had encountered off of Jakku.

He set it next to her, complete with a straw to make it easier to drink. She could feel her fever more strongly now, the dark purples and red of the glass swirling together heavily as she lay and watched them. "I'm going to do some work while you get some rest." He said, and she nodded, already blinking off into tiredness.

Later, she was wasn't sure how much, she heard shuffling in the room. She tried to blink her eyes open, but she was exhausted still and couldn't move, panic starting to set in. Until a soft, strong hand touched the side of her face, and she felt a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Goodnight, Rey." She heard him whisper. "I'll be right here." She heard more shuffling, fading into sleep again before it was done.

* * *

She blinked her eyes open, the room still dark. At some point, her fever had broken, and though she was still tired, she could feel the relief at being able to be awake without the chills and sweat that the night before had offered. She turned on the bed, pulling back the blanket, and looked around. It was still dark, only the wee hours of the morning, and all of the lights were off while the room seemed still around her.

She blinked, shifting to get more comfortable and return to sleep, when she saw Finn. He was sitting in the only chair in the room, fast asleep, his jacket covering him like a blanket. It couldn't have been comfortable, and she felt guilty she had done it just for her; but she knew if she woke him, he wouldn't leave. So she burrowed down, letting her recovering body fade more into sleep, allowing herself the freedom of pleasant dreams of his touch and the small kiss he had placed to her forehead.


	3. A Long Week: HanLeia: Rated M

**(A/N) Han/Leia request fic! Be warned, it is mature :) Requests are still open**

"Where's Ben?" She appeared in the doorway, hair pulled down from its usual tight bun, her expression tired.

"Asleep." He grunted, flipping aimlessly through a stack of papers. "We had a long day." But his mouth curved up into a smirk, his voice a low rumble with the hint of a laugh. "How was yours?"

"Rebuilding a Senate is not easy work," she said, and he finally looked up at her fully, his papers forgotten. "It's nice to be back for a change. Luke is coming over in a few days, he thinks Ben might be force sensitive."

She was leaning against the doorframe, her smile tired but steady as she looked at him, taking in his own rough appearance. He wanted to laugh and say that he knew their son was force sensitive, that he had seen the proof in his almost superhuman actions, even as he was just playing. Today he had been able to run for what seemed like miles, the whole time they had gone to the small waterfront park on Coruscant he had run, laughing and wailing while he escaped his father's grasp for the better part of two hours. But it had been a good day, a nice break from Han's days spent training pilots for the new republic.

She raised her eyebrows at him, wondering at his silence, but he just extended his hand to her, beckoning her over. She gave him a small laugh, closing the space between them, settling on his lap, his arms wrapping around her, his forehead pressing against her shoulder.

"I'm sorry you had a long day." He said, feeling her hands run through his hair, scratching gently at his scalp. "It seems like we always have long days."

"Maybe that's why you have more gray hair back here." She said pointedly, laughing as he looked up at her, meeting her eyes with faux anger.

"Well, sweetheart, I didn't have a single one until I met you." He said, "Not to mention saving the galaxy with Luke, teaching a bunch of pilots how to fly worth a parsec, fathering a wild child…"

"And being very humble about it all the same?" She asked, and he laughed again, this time it ending with her leaning down to pull him into a kiss, their first in a couple of days. He could feel his tiredness evaporating as he pulled her close, her mouth tasting slightly of caf and the closest thing to Alderaanean chocolate she had been able to find. It had been a while since they had any semblance of alone time, and with Ben fast asleep, the odds might finally be working out for them.

He was about to pull back, suggest that they might take this a bit further, when he felt her pushing his jacket back off of his shoulders. He released her, shrugging it off, feeling her hands work under the bottom him of his shirt to trail over his chest and stomach. "If you're not too tired…"

""I've never too tired for you, sweetheart." He answered sincerely, and then, as if to emphasize his point, he rolled his hips into her body, his hands resting on her hips as she straddled him into the chair. She shook her head, rolling her eyes before kissing him again. He leaned back, his hands moving up to start removing her layers as she finished pulling him free of his shirt. Her hands were insistent, their years together letting her know exactly how he liked to be touched, his arousal growing accordingly.

He pressed a kiss to her cheek, kissing his way down her face to her neck. "I like your hair down." He mumbled into her skin, hearing the soft gasp as he sucked at just the right spot. "Of course, I like it up as well." He continued his work on her nick, kissing and nibbling softly all along the exposed skin as her hands ran up and down his back, her nails lightly pressing down into his skin. He marveled sometimes, that they were married. Only a few years ago, he would never have seen himself as someone who would have a wife, the same woman to return to every night. A woman to share his bed, his thoughts, his child with. She was truly unique, and he loved her for it, despite their many arguments and the stress they were both under as the galaxy tried to rebuild itself, whispers of a new order on the lips of everyone outside the capital.

She pressed her hips down, eliciting a groan from him as she ground down on his growing erection. "I love you." He said, pulling his head back to press his forehead to hers, looking deep into her eyes, a deep rich brown color.

"I know," She said, and moved to stand in front of him, lacing her fingers through his with a wink. He stood to follow her, but she pulled him close, tugging him by the waist to undo his belt. "No point into taking this with us." She said as it dropped to the floor, now pulling him to their bedroom on the far side of the living space, leaving the lights off as she moved him to sit back on the bed.

He reached for her, but she pushed his hands back, stepping back from him to pull her shirt over her head. He could feel himself hardening at the sight of her, fully content with both her body and his opinion of her. Not that he would ever think she was anything less than perfect, in body, in mind, in spirit. Her pants followed, falling to the floor with a soft whisper as most of her body was exposed to his view.

"You're beautiful." He almost growled as she stepped back over to him putting her knees on either side of his waist, the heat between her legs pressing hard into his groin. He groaned as she pulled him into another kiss, rocking against him over their remaining clothes. Not truly wanting to wait any longer, he wrapped a strong arm around her waist and flipped them on the bed, hovering over her.

Her smile was beautiful, even in the darkness of their room, and he couldn't resist kiss her again, exploring her mouth with his tongue. His fingers danced all over her skin, undoing her bra clasp and pulling the straps forward down her arms. His hands moved from her sides to her breasts, cupping them gently, her skin soft and inviting. His lips left hers, freeing her soft gasps and sighs as he kissed all over her throat, collarbone, and chest. Her fingers twisted in his hair as he finally pressed kisses to her breasts, taking one of her nipples into his mouth.

Since the first time they had made love, she had always reacted like this to her breasts being touched. Her legs wrapped around his waist, the electric pulses thumping through her enough to merit her grinding her pelvis into his, his hips bucking against her.

"Han..." She gasped his name as he moved to her other breast. She felt her hands undo the snap of his pants, followed by the zipper. He shifted, helping her by kicking them down his legs to the ground. He stopped, meaning to speak to her, but her hand ventured past his waistband, tracing a small scar on his stomach before wrapping around his erection.

He buried his head in her neck with a deep groan, loving the feel of her exploring his skin, moving over his erection in slow strokes. She stopped, rolling his underwear down off of his hips, sliding her hands over his butt and down his legs.

"I've missed you." He said, relishing the extra satisfaction that came from doing this after being apart for a long time. Their schedules as of late hadn't been conducive to this kind of behavior, only to work and parenting. This, their time together was incredible, the feelings he was getting as her hands explored his skin making him happier than most things could.

"I love you." She said, with a soft smile. He felt her hands go to his back, and then, in a quick motion that took him by surprise, she flipped them on the bed, her legs stretched across his thighs, grinding onto his skin. He took the edges of her panties in his fingers, rolling them down her legs. She took him back in her hand, looking into his eyes as she stroked him slowly, his erection jutting up from him body.

He was panting, keeping his eyes on her naked body. "Leia, please." He wanted to be inside her, make love to her, feel more than just her hand, satisfy the ache that had set up in his body.

She smiled, keeping her eyes on him as she moved forward, keeping one hand on him to guide him into her body. They moaned together as he filled her, stretching her in all the right places. Almost immediately, he started thrusting up gently into her body, not realizing how much he had missed making love to her, but she controlled the pace, pressing her pelvis down, starting to ride him slowly.

His hands locked on her hips, holding her closer as she started grinding her pelvis onto him, getting friction on the bundle of nerves exposed as she moaned. They were beyond words at this point, each gentle thrust urging him to move a little faster, each of her moans making him stiffen inside of her. He groaned along with her, thrusting harder into body. He could hear her panting, marveling that she could still feel so amazing after their years together.

He could feel his orgasm coming, his veins flooded with the feeling he only got from being with her. She ground onto him one more time, shouting his name as her muscles clenched hard around him, pulling him all the way into her body with a hard thrust. He released with a deep groan, both of their movements frantic.

She collapsed onto his chest, her loose hair splayed out over his chest, her skin warm with a sheen of sweat. Even though he was almost lost in the euphoria of it all, he could feel his tiredness rushing over him again, the desire to sleep strong, holding him limbs to the bed. "I'll be right back." She pressed a gentle kiss to his chest, separating them and moving off of him to go to the refresher connected to their master suite. He watched her go, briefly contemplating standing up to pull on some pajamas, but deciding against it as she rejoined him, still naked, curling into his side as her long day caught back up to her as well.

"Goodnight, flyboy." She whispered against his shoulder, pulling the blanket up around them.

"Goodnight, princess." He said, in the same teasing tone, her answering smile the last thing he saw before he closed his eyes to sleep, the feel of her body and the thoughts of their lives together lulling him into a contented sleep.


	4. Bail and Leia (father-daughter fluff): K

He held her close, glancing down at her tiny eyes that were shut tight, tiny breaths coming from between her lips. She was wrapped in a soft blanket, swaddled comfortably and resting in the crook of his arm. It was night on Alderaan, he was arriving late, but safe; his wife' heartfelt surprise and choking breaths over the phone at his safety had told him enough. He had spoken naught of his the tiny surprise in his arms, but the time would come.

In his own heart, he was warring. Even in the tiny features etched across Leia's face, he could see her mother. A strong woman, resolute and open with her time, energy, and heart. She had sacrificed her youth to fight against a war, and now she had sacrificed her life for a family she would never see. The Republic, which her life was invested in, was in shambles. Destroyed by the man she had loved. The Jedi Order was in ruin, her children separated, her friends on lists to be eliminated.

And yet, he could not help but smile as little Leia, his new daughter, blinked awake with a soft cry. Her small arms were held down, but with enough wiggling, she was able to reach a hand from beneath the blankets, her small, still-red fingers grasping at his robe. Her eyes were dark brown as Padme's had been, blinking under a small cover of dark brown hair. In his eyes she was perfect, even as she started to cry softly from a small mouth.

He lifted her up higher, and touched the index finger of his free hand to her face. Her cries stopped, changed to soft coos as she reached and grasped for his fingers, her tiny fingers finally closing around it.

"Bail!" He heard Breha approaching him; her cry ending the rather soft moment between him and Leia. "I can't believe you are safe…the things they have said-" But her voice cut at the sight of Leia, making soft noises from the confines of his arms.

"Hello, darling." And the weight of the last twenty four hours overwhelmed him. Everything had changed so rapidly, this time the day before he had been leaving a Senate meeting celebrating the end of General Grievous. Now, he was standing back on Alderaan, the entire future uncertain, holding the daughter of one of his closest friends. "This is Leia."

The baby turned, almost hyper-aware of what was happening around her. He wasn't surprised, her having the blood of Jedi, but she reached that same hand out to his wife, and Beha took the baby in her arms. "Hello, Leia." Her voice was soft, and he could hear the tears coming from her eyes as she spoke. She could not know the truth, of course. To do it would put Leia, Yoda, Luke, and Obi-Wan at extreme risk. But his wife was no fool, she knew something had happened. And knew that all she could ever know was that this little girl was theirs to raise now.

"She is perfect."

"WE have always wanted a child." And that much was true. He would never have chosen these circumstances, not in a million Alderaanean winters, not even if it was at the cost of his own life. But these were the circumstances they had been given, the will of the force as the Jedi had so long said.

And now, looking at his wife, who spoke now of how she was their daughter: this girl who had so little left to her, and a legacy she would never even know, his heart lifted for the first time in days. He put his arm around his wife, his other hand reaching out to Leia who was fading back into sleep, but laid her arm across his fingers.

Somewhere across the galaxy, he wondered if one of his oldest friends was having the same experience as he was now. Passing off little Luke to a family he had not known, and feeling this same way.

He looked at his daughter, her still-red eyelids fluttered shut, her head turned into his wife's bosom, and saw as she fell asleep, unaware of her signifigance. Perhaps the day might come to tell her, but he did not foresee that. For now, he would keep her safe, keep her strong. She was his light, his child. But more than that, beyond him and Breha on the balcony, she was one of the galaxy's great hopes; half of the future of the Jedi that remained.


	5. Gone: Obi-Wan's Thoughts on Alderaan: K

He could feel his chest constricting. He was an old man, that much was clear by his outward appearance, but confirmed by the weariness he could feel in his bones and tired muscles as he moved over the dry planes of Tatooine. Years it had been since he had been in space. Years since he had left the empty comfort of his sand covered hut and the sand covered cities that gathered around it. For years, he had kept the boy now helping pilot this ship at arm's length, close enough to grasp with his fingers, but far enough away to not be seen.

He was powerful, burning with a brightness that made him want to cry and laugh and scream and smile all at one time. A familiar power, a familiar light. Except for now. Alderaan. He had heard rumors of the Emperor's power, whispers of some great machine, capable of this kind of power, but the Jedi that remained within him had refused to believe in that level of evil.

He vaguely heard Luke speak, a boy who was as eager to help as he was to leave Tatooine. But his words could not process clearly. This was pain, true pain that he had not felt since he had crashed into the water on Utapau, when all of the light that shrouded him comfortably since his arrival at the temple began blinking out like forgotten stars. He shortened his breath, feeling the ship begin to rock as it came into contact with what he knew were pieces of what remained of Alderaan.

"I felt a great disturbance in the Force, as if millions of voices suddenly cried out in terror and were suddenly silenced. I fear something terrible has happened." He said the words, keeping his eyes on the darkness in front of them, holding tight to his seat with weak arms as the ship rocked back and forth in the atmosphere.

He could feel death surrounded them, pain, suffering and confusion all wound together into a ball that pressed into his chest. Flittering through his mind were the people he knew, the ones lost now to space. He heard their pilot, Solo, say they hadn't reached their destination; that they were in some unknown asteroid belt, but now the truth was clear.

He could her Bail Organa's voice, only once it had come through the radio in his time on Tatooine. He had been one of the main leaders and funders of the rebellion, keeping the Senate intact despite strong opposition. Gone now, like everything else. His wife, whom he had only met in passing, but radiated the same gentleness as her husband. He had kept up with the news, seen as he arrived with Luke that the Organa's had adopted an heir to the Alderaanean throne, a baby girl whom they had christened Leia. That lie had made him smile, the picture of all of them on the royal terrace enough to make him keep the story for as long as the flimsi had held together.

And his mind came to rest on little Leia. He had heard her name whispered, replacing her father in the Senate as Bail aged; fighting for the rights of her own people and others. In her, in the scarce news that ever came to Mos Espa and Mos Eisley, her name came with the same fiery resonance that her real mother's had carried, her father's as well if anyone had ever known them they would realize why she had that stubborn streak run through her. And now, she too was gone.

He looked to the boy in front of him, now focused as they finally were pulled free of the asteroids, only to be caught in something else. He could feel the twinge of the dark side again. The presence that had haunted his dreams, had haunted his thoughts. He was not afraid, he had not been afraid of Anakin since he had left him on Mustafar so long ago, too weak to offer him the peace that death would bring. And his thoughts did not linger there, only with Leia, and now with Luke, now truly the last hope of the universe. One who had never known his family, would never know his sister, and now, might finally see his father.


	6. Gentle: Obi-WanSiri: Rated T (Part 1)

"Siri," His voice was soft as he closed the door behind him. "I've made tea." She could smell the strong mint brew he normally kept on the stove, and she sat up, looking at him through the dim light of the floating lights of his room. She blinked a few times, willing her head to clear. She had been recovering from her last mission, and had come to his room after being unable to stomach staying in her own.

He had offered her his room, and while she had no intention of accepting, her medicine had kicked into overdrive and she had practically collapsed onto him in the hallway, vaguely aware of him carrying her to the bed and pulling the blankets up around her before she drifted into sleep. She had been awake for the last twenty minutes, if she could trust her internal clock. A glance at the actual clock now showed that it was an almost an hour until midnight, meaning she had slept the better part of six hours.

"Do you think you can drink it?" He asked, sitting on the edge of the bed with the tray. "I thought it might help you feel better…"

"Thank you." She said. In reality, now that the medicine had left her system and she could feel the wound on her abdomen had scarred over, she felt better than she had in a long time. But she took the tea regardless, its warm aroma too intoxicating to ignore.

He took his own cup between his fingers, setting the tray on the nightstand. "I am sorry your mission was so taxing." She looked at him over the rim of her cup, his blue eyes barely glinting in the dim lights. He had cut his hair, now short and refined to match his beard. He had been appointed to the council, and she knew that he could not have possibly been free for the evening, but that had not stopped him from changing his schedule to be here with her. She had to smile, there were things about Obi-Wan that she knew would never change.

"There have been worse things, Obi-Wan. I heard about your latest journey to the Outer Rim." She reached out a hand to where she could trace her fingers along the tip of a scar, recently healed, that disappeared into his tunic. Her fingers followed it, dipping below the fabric for a moment, and she wondered momentarily if the medicine had made her lose her bearings. "You were injured pretty badly, I heard."

She became very conscious of his heightened breathing as she moved her hand back, but he gave her a small smile, taking another sip of tea. "As you said, there are worse things." He set his tea on the tray, and she attempted to do the same, kicking the confines of the blanket off of her in order to do so, inexplicably moving closer to him. "Is there anything else you need, I have some medications in the cabinet, more tea."

"I feel much better actually." She said, not meaning to interrupt him, but not wanting him to spend his time offering her help she did not need. In fact, she was focusing on other things. Here they were, with his schedule cleared for the night and, she suspected, early morning; sitting together in the darkness of his bedroom. They had almost given in to a situation like this years before, when both still had a Padawan braid, before all that had happened with Krayn, before Anakin, before Qui-Gon, before the war, but that would have been too soon.

"Right." He said, and looked down, smiling. "I never have been the best doctor." He let out a laugh, and she smiled as well, reaching out a hand to touch the side of his face, her thumb tracing his cheekbone. His hair was fluffy, but scratched gently against the pads of her fingers. He looked up at her, his expression slightly confused.

"You have done more than enough for me, Obi-Wan." She said softly, her voice dropping to barely above a whisper.

"Yes, well," and she saw him swallow, realizing how close they were together on the bed. "You've always been a special case." She leaned in to him, the smell of mint tea strong in her nostrils, and pressed her lips to his for the first time, pressing thirty years of emotions into that simple gesture.

She blinked slowly, pale light washing in from unfamiliar windows. She turned in the bed, rolling over onto what was a warm place in and otherwise empty bed. She was slightly disoriented, but could hear the door in the living room closing softly and the lock click. She laid back, shifting back on the pillows.

She lifted a hand back, and realized that the strong scent of him lingered on the pillows and blankets. She smiled to herself, remembering all that had happened the night before. She wished he had been able to stay, to wake up to him next to her, but a glance at his clock showed how late it truly was. She turned onto her side, the sheets cool against her bare skin, and felt a bit of flimsi trapped under her arm.

She picked it up between gentle fingers, looking at the very lee script, scrawled in neat rows across it.

 _I am sorry to have left with no notice. You were sleeping so peacefully, I couldn't bring myself to wake you. Last night was incredible, Siri, well beyond my comprehension or very limited imagination. I would like to see you again later this evening, if you would like. I have meetings until dinner, but if you wanted, we could eat the evening meal together. Comm me if you need to reschedule._

 _O.K._

She almost laughed at the formal tone, but it was very sweet, and very Obi-Wan. But in order to meet him alter, she would have to get up now, despite the fact that her body was telling her to continue sleeping, to drift back into pleasant dreams of warm skin and gentle hands.


	7. Gentle: ObiwanSiri: Rated T (Part 2)

Dinner was pleasant, in fact she would have to count this as the best dinner she had enjoyed in a long while. Not because the soup was anything particularly special, but because it was spent in his company, which, while always enjoyable, had become so much more now. They had talked for well over an hour about any and everything that passed through their minds, his voice was quiet but dignified, and there was always that quiet smile that seemed to only come across his face for her.

And now she was sitting in the couch of his recently half-emptied apartment, waiting on him to once again brew tea. His head came through the doorway of the kitchen, "Is there a particularly flavor you might enjoy?"

"Mint is always nice." She said, and he nodded, turning around as the kettle started to whistle. She personally had always had a cup of caf when she wanted energy, but she knew Obi-Wan had always enjoyed tea, an old habit picked up from Qui-Gon. And whatever flavor he had made for them yesterday, with a heavy mint and just a touch of sweetness, had been perfect. Though she thought that might have had more to do with the company.

"Here you are." He said, handing her a steaming cup as he took the seat two cushions down from her, his own mug in his hands. "It might be a bit stronger than yesterday's, I'm afraid. The bags are wrapped individually, and they tend to differ on concentration a bit."

"I'm sure I can handle it," She said with a smirk, and his face went a bit red. She watched him as he took a sip and then stretched out his arms. His tunic pulled back against his skin, and she was hit with flashes of the night before, seeing his bare skin in the dark, running her hands over his body. He turned away from her slightly, setting his cup down, something seeming to come to his mind. She watched his arm move, and remembered distinctly the thick white scar that adorned it, a mark form a lightsaber fight. He had told her about it at dinner, his and Anakin's fight with Dooku, but she had not pressed it beyond that.

"When did Anakin move out?"

"He was knighted shortly after we returned from Geonosis, though I know you were away in the mid-rim brigade runs." He said, looking back to her, his focus seeming somewhere other than there conversation. "He has an apartment down the hall."

"Are you thinking of taking another apprentice, then?" She said, finishing her tea and setting the mug down on the table, "You certainly have the space." He gave her a small laugh at that, his eyebrows lifting as he nodded in agreement.

"I do." He turned to face her fully, clasping his hands together. "But I think it may be a while before I take another one, I've barely recovered from the first." She gave a small laugh, "And with the war going on…"

He grew quiet, more solemn. She thought back to the war as it had been, she had been on Geonosis, watched the slaughter of more than sixty Jedi by Dooku's forces, had felt the force lose some fo the light it had held. Then she had left, hearing about Yoda's fight with Dooku, and Obi-Wan's appointement as a High General, and the divison of clone armies, but she had been away. They were both quiet for a moment.

"The war will end, Obi-Wan." She said, and he looked over at her, his face weary. "It does not have to consume everything."

"You're right, of course." He said, and gave a faint hint of a smile. "Us, for example. I won't let the war weigh on the fact that I haven't seen you in years, Siri." He reached out a hand, and she wove her fingers through his. "Though I can only imagine Master Windu's face if he saw us in here now."

He wasn't looking at her, but she had to almost laugh at him at that, he looked so serious. She set down her mug, now lukewarm, and moved over closer to him. "There are other things I would rather picture." She said, and unsubtly slid her hand up his side to undo the carefully tied knot that held his tunic together. "And some I don't have to imagine at all."

His head swiveled and his eyes met hers with a brief flash. His cheeks, though well hidden by his beard and he could never admit it, were stained red at her advance, pulling his tunic apart to once again run her hands over his skin. "As I said, Siri, last night was incredible." He said softly, and his hand reached up to stroke her cheek. "I cannot help but feel as though I am being selfish."

"Allowing yourself to be happy doesn't mean you are detracting from the war effort, Obi-Wan." She said softly. "And there is nothing in the code against this." He kept his eyes level with hers for a moment, his expression one of deep thought and consideration.

"You are always right," He said, with a small laugh, "I don't know how you manage that." He didn't get an answer, in part because he didn't wait for one. He brushed a thumb over her cheekbone and pressed his lips against hers, an arms coming around her as his tunic was pushed back onto his shoulders, one of her hands threading through his short hair, the other sliding around to his back to pull him closer.

* * *

At some point in their progression, she was conscious of his arms lifting her from his couch, most of their clothes abandoned in his living room. Her body was aching for him, a product of physical need, maybe, but perhaps moreso of their force connections, which she could feel intertwined even closer than their bodies. She wanted him, all of him.

She was met with flashes of memory of the night before, where the sensations between them had been new. Now his fingers and lips traveled her body like he knew exactly she needed from him, his sweet words that traveled over her skin to her ears hit every note that she needed to hear. When she pulled his lips to hers as they came together again and again and again, he was doing more than moving inside of her. He was pulling them together in a way that made it exactly impossible for her to think beyond that room, where a war still raged and pain and sorrow were waiting. But as her name took over his other words, the feel of him, the sounds he made, she decided that for a moment, she did not care.

She turned in the bed, feeling his warm arm move back across her waist. He was still sleeping, his face the picture of relaxation, she pressed her face into the pillow to see him. She had realized, after his body had relaxed against her in sleep, how satisfying the afterglow of contentment was. Almost as satisfying as making love to him to begin with. Almost.

* * *

She reached out and touched his chest, tracing the same scar she had traced two nights before, before any of this had even happened. It was still early, though she knew it probably wouldn't' be long before he woke and the day, full of work and frustrations would begin again. So instead of waking him, or leaping early into the day, she closed her eyes to fall back into sleep, his gentle face the image that filled her mind as her mind turned to dreams. Dreams of what would have happened if she had never gotten injured, if he had never been thoughtful enough to bring her that first mug of mint tea.


	8. Rogue One Snippets! (Part 1): Rated K

**(A/N) First two snippets in my Rogue One series for this! Keep sending requests, pairings are pretty much open :)**

The Jedha sun was hot, beating down into the city that smelled like cooking meat and a fresh brewing sandstorm. He could feel the grit between his teeth as the breeze that offered no relief from the heat blew into his mouth, his ears, his armor. He sighed, wishing they could go back to the way things had been what seemed like ages ago, but knew that was a far off dream. He did not have the same force connection as Chirrut, who seemed entirely unperturbed by the heat as walked with his staff outstretched in front of him, smiling as the passerbys who would either drop their eyes from Chirrut's clouded ones or smile back and drop a coin in their small collection bowl.

"You seem upset, Baze." Chirrut finally said to him, when they had reached shade and his long hair was matted to his forehead with sweat. Chirrut didn't take his usual seat, instead turning to Baze, with a hand on his chest plate. "The force moves negatively around this space. Bad for business." He added with a broad smile.

"I am no more upset that I was yesterday, Chirrut." He set his heavy gun on the ground. "Surely the force told you that." To his surprise, Chirrut's hand moved over to his face with that same smile, pushing the hair away from his eye. He tugged him downward, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. Baze couldn't help but smile at that, knowing that Chirrut was trying to make him happier.

"The force is always uncertain around you, Baze Malbus." And he pressed another, softer kiss to his lips before he pulled away to sit down. "I, however, am not."

And he kept that same smile as he had, and to his chagrin, they got more donations that day than they had in a long time.

* * *

"Where is Jyn?"Lyra asked him as she placed the pot on the stove.

"We are playing hide and seek." Galen answered. "She is hiding."

Lyra laughed, taking in her husband's serious expression which softened at the sound. "Well I would hope you wouldn't be hiding, or you have a great deal to learn about the purpose of Hide and Seek." She went back to preparing dinner, not noticing for a moment that Galen had leaned against the wall of their small kitchen, watching her motions with a small smile. He was weathered, their recent run from the Empire wearing on his mind and body. His hair was growing longer, having to be tied up when he tended to the fields or prepared food for them. Secretly she liked it, running her hands through it, watching it hang down his shoulders when he would climb out of their small shower.

"I know you diverse interests, Dr. Erso, I didn't think that boiling water was one of them." She said slyly, stepping away from the pot and stepping towards him, lifting her eyebrows when weathered fingers came around her hips to tug her close.

"I find it fascinating." He said, and for the first time in a long while, his eyes were clear of worry as he looked down at her and moved a hand to brush a stray strand of hairs out of the way before he leaned down to kiss her slowly. She threaded her fingers through his hair, tugging him close to her as their kiss deepened. It was hard to steal moments like this when they had a rambunctious four-year old running around the house, fields to tend, food to cook, messages to code, rebels to assist, and all the other functions of what was becoming a typical day. She ahd to admit this was nice.

And it was no nice, in fact, that it was threatening to move further until Galen pulled away from her, pressing his forehead to hers, breathing heavily. "I think I have kept her waiting long enough." He said, and Lyra laughed again. He pressed another kiss to her cheek, letting his hands linger against the curve of her face as he stepped back to shuffle out of their small home in search of their daughter who always hid in the same place.

She let out a soft sigh as she added their ground meal to the water to form the paste for the vegetables. She loved Galen, more than she had realized she could be in love with another person. But, after she had Jyn and he had left Krennic and the weapons program behind, things had changed between them and nothing had ever made her as happy as watching him carry Jyn across the field in front of their home, laughing and swinging her around by her arms as she laughed loudly.

Their private moment had been nice, the feel of his lips lingering in the place of their long absence. But the sound of him running through his door, his turn to hide from their daughter, was even nicer.


End file.
